


Bend the Knee

by carpesidera



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Gen, Implied Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen, Jon Snow knows nothing, Jon is king, OOC, Sansa Stark is Queen in the North, Season 8, Slow Burn, jonsa, picks up after season 7, the slowest of slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-01-06 08:56:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12207972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carpesidera/pseuds/carpesidera
Summary: The She-wolf Refuses to bend the knee to the Dragon Queen.





	1. Chapter 1

Sansa stared at the Dragon Queen, she stood in the middle of the great hall of Winterfell head held high with white curls falling elegantly over her shoulders. The Queen looked regal and superior to the lords of the North who eyed her with suspicion and downright distaste.

“Princess Daenerys we welcome you to Winterfell and to the North.” Sansa voice echoed around the silent hall, the northerner to cautious to even whisper. They knew why the Queen was there but they had learnt in this very room the Matriarch of House Stark was not one to underestimate. The Dragon Queen stood very close to where Littlefinger took his last rasping breath.

“I am honoured to be in your humble castle, Lady Stark, however you will find me to be your Queen rather than princess as your brother and warden has bent the knee.” The blonde woman’s smile was cruel, twisted in a way that brought back memories of Old Nans stories of dragon kings and fire pits.

But Sansa straightened her back, and cast her eyes to her sister on her right side and her brother to her left, they both stared back at her and simply nodded.

The pack was unanimous.

“We will not bend the knee.” Her words were simple and efficient, one thing she learnt from Cersaei, sometimes you don’t need to sugar coat it.

The Queen looked taken back, her shock shining through her purple eyes. She looked panicked back at her hand and Jon Snow both of whom were trying to fade into the shadows.

Jon moved slowly forwards hands raised as if to tame a wild wolf.

“Sansa, sister, I am warden of the north-“

“King. Jon dear, you were King.” Her eyebrow was raised and from her raised seat she looked every bit like the She-Wolf she was. Even Ghost who had been so happy at Jons’ arrival bounded to her side, resting a paw on her knee looked affectionately for a scratch behind the ear.

Which Sansa did. Scratching ghosts ear without moving her large eyes from the princess and prince before her.

She knew she should speak frankly and if Jon had followed their plan it would be what she would do. But he bent the knee and Arya returned and Bran returned with untold truths and whispered changes. 

And Jon bent the knee. A move Sansa would not forget.

"Dear Jon, and princess. We welcome you to Winterfell and offer you hospitality and comfort however please be aware we will not bend the knee nor fight a southern war for you. You may wander the grounds and your dragons may fly our skies but we will not partake in a war for the iron throne. We will fight the white walkers, together if the gods bless it, but no more than that." 

Arya smiled out of the corner of Sansa eye, which almost gave away the way her feelings. Arya had always mocked Sansa’s grown up voice and the fact she was using it against Jon of all people made the youngest Stark girl giggle internally.

The Dragon Queen did not expect this show to disrespect and distrust from the sisters of Jon Snow. He had sworn fealty to her and her claim to the Iron Throne time and time again, against even the Lion Bitch. But his sister the one She had heard rumours of for years, the whore who laid with lions and flayed bastards, who Tyrion had sworn she would be a supporter was denying her the north, and her brother his right.

“San- “Jon tried to move closer to the table, a move he did with great caution, one eye on his youngest sister with her hand resting on her sword and one eye on Ghost who curled his lips at his master.

“Jon, I would prefer a word in private.” Sansa rose, her black robes billowing around her as she adjusted the large fur neck.

“Lord Husband, you may come to.” She went to turn with a quick nod to the Dwarf who with a side glance at his Queen followed.

Daenerys went to interject, to scream her words of fire but Arya instead of following her sister stood by the Dragon Queen. With a twisted smile of her own and a raised brow she whispered, “Stay.” Before slowing walking backwards from the room, not blinking as she stared down the white-haired beauty.

Bran rolled himself out, silently with no grandeur, with Ghost by his side.

Jon was the last to leave, he moved slowly grabbing hold of Daenerys shoulder, “This won’t take long, they will bend the knee.” He smiled weakly before following his siblings out the door.  
Leaving the Dragon Queen alone, with the northern lords.

\-------------------  
Sansa made herself comfortable by the window of her solar, leaning against the glass panes and slowly removing her cape and furs. The fire flickering in the fireplace giving the room a warm, comfortable atmosphere.  
Arya sat on the desk, her feet curled up under her, with whetstone and needle she looked a frightening mix of comfortable and sinister. With Bran and Ghost next to the fire, both with their eyes shut it almost looked like any other evening with the Stark Children.

Bar the uncomfortable and angry Men at the door.

“Would you like some wine my lord?” Sansa gestured to the wine cast on the table, filled with Dornish Red. Tyrion made for it quickly, unsure on what to say first.

“It has been a time Lady Sansa.” The formality of it all seemed so wrong.

“A life time or two my Lord, I do believe both of us have had an adventure or two.” The Lady and Lord stared at each before Sansa broke into a shining smile. She knelt down to Tyrion's level and engulfed him in an embrace. The Hand did not know to how take her show of affection. 

After the two separated and Sansa righted herself up, dusting off her skirts and grabbing her own glass of wine a sense of urgency filled the room as they all remembered why they were there.

“Why will you not bend the knee?” Jon's voice was rough and the emotion in it almost warmed his sisters hearts. 

“Because she is not our queen, nor will she ever be our queen.” Arya spoke without looking up from her sword, her voice dripping like venom over them all.

“I bent the knee for the North, as Warden I have aligned us with the north. I gave my word.”

“You don’t have a word to give Jon, you don’t have the right.”

“Why? Because I’m a bastard, that didn’t bother you moons ago Sansa.”  
“It's not because you’re a bloody bastard Jon!” Sansa roared, Sansa was exhausted, her normal pale skin looked blue under the fire's light and her voice while fiery held notes of exhaustion. 

“Then why?”

“Because you are not a Stark.” Brans voice was low, like he was oblivious to the tension, his eyes now open took in the dancing flames. 

Jon looked taken back, his eyes wide and heart racing. All his life he had been told that but hearing Bran, his sweet Bran, say those words shocked him to his core.

“So the wolves return and suddenly I’m the bastard again. Really Sansa? After everything I did for you?” 

“Did for me?”

“I took back Winterfell for you!”

“For me? You took back Winterfell for us, for Rickon! For all of us, not for me. You haven’t done anything for me, I wanted you to stay here. To run Winterfell and the North with me, by my side. But nooo you had to go play King in the South and fuck the Dragon Queen. Her dragons will save us you said! Well she has only two now and whose fault would that be? You’re so pig headed and arrogant you understand nothing Jon Snow.”  
The two stared angrily at each other, fists tightening and teeth clenching. Tyrion looked at the two other siblings taking everything in, Bran was back staring unseeingly into the fire and Arya was balancing her sword on the tips of her fingers. 

“What is happening right now? Because I have an angry and insulted queen to get back to.”

Sansa broke the eye contact first, as if suddenly remembering why they were here.

“Bran sees things. Weird future past things.” 

“I am the three eyed-raven.” Sansa rolled her eyes.

“Yes he has three eyes to see the future, present and past. It's a long story.” 

Jon and Tyrion looked at each other, confusion written all over their faces.  
“I see many things, things that I have trouble understanding. But I saw something in the past Jon, something about you.”

“What did you see?”

“You are not a Stark, though our families blood runs through your veins, Stark or even Snow is not your name.” 

“Bran-”

Arya interjected, “You're a Targaryen Jon. Its why we won’t bend the knee.”

Shock and surprise was written all over Jons face. Confusion over Tyrions.

Jon walked backwards, sitting himself on Ned's old arm chair. Collapsing in it his head heavy and his heart beating in this throat he took in the faces of his family. 

Arya and Bran looked at him with earnest, unblinking eyes and Sansa, his sweet and fiery Sansa, she could not look at him. Her eyes darted around his but her slippered feet shuffled on the stone floor and her fingers knotted themselves in front of her. An old tick from her childhood when she was telling a horrible truth.

They were not lying.  
“How do you know?” he croaked out. Taking the glass the silent Tyrion had offered him.

“I am the three eyed raven.” Bran said simply as if that would answer anything.

“But how? Besides a vision or whatever, how do you know?”

“Your friend Sam, found records of it. Oh Lyannas marriage to the Dragon Prince. They didn't run away Jon, they fell in love. All those stories of Knights and Princesses it came true for them. You are a Targaryen, and the last surviving son to the last heir. You are the King.” Sansa looked at him and all the anger, all the fire they are between them melted away. Her skirts ruffled in the silence as she swept across the room to him. She bent the knee before him, resting a pale hand on the arm of the chair.

“I Sansa Stark, Daughter of Eddard Stark, Lady of Winterfell and Queen of the North, bend the knee to you King Jon, First of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Six Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm.”

Arya leaped from the table with grace and knelt next to her sister.

“I give you my sword, King Jon.” her voice mocked the title but her eyes showed how proud she truly was.

Bran bowed his head.

“Well fuck.” Tyrion muttered under his breathe, taking in the Children of Ned Stark bowing to the Son of Lyanna.

“This is going to get complicated.”

The door swung open to reveal the Dragon Queen, “You have no idea.”


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

 

Sansa lent further back on Arya's’ bed, her long legs wrapped underneath her as she lounged on the deep pile of furs her sister had collected. 

Said sister sat on the armchair facing the bed, wrapping herself in even more furs. Since her arrival back to the north the assassin found it hard to keep warm, her body betraying its northern roots and missing the Bravos sunshine.

“I think that could have gone better.” The youngest Stark said as she took a sip of her wine. Her forehead wrinkling at the taste. 

“Well she didn’t burn us alive and Winterfell is still standing so I will call it a success.” Sansa smirked sipping her own wine. After years under Cersei's tutelage she had grown to like the taste of wine.

“We didn’t die, that’s your level for success?”

“I am taking what I can get these days.”

“What do we do about Jon?” Arya couldn’t look at the sister as she asked the question, her mind kept thinking of Jon as the young boy who had left Winterfell for the wall. The boy who had given her Needle, and whom spent his life shulking in the shadows was not the man who called himself ‘warden of the north’ in the great hall. He reminded her of the men in Tywin Lannisters court, unfocused eyes and miserable lips. He was a man who had seen to much, with no time to let the horrors sink in.

“I don’t know Arya. I am making this up as we go.”

“Father never trained us for this did he?”

“Trained us how to rule Winterfell, fight undead warriors, and deal with dragons with angry blonde queens? No father really did fail us.” The reality of their current situation made both girls burst out in laughter, tears falling as they tried to restrain themselves.

“What would you say to yourself if you could go back to the day we left Winterfell?” Arya asked once the girls regained their composure.

Sansa thought for a moment, bringing her glass to her lips.

“I would tell myself to enjoy being a Northerner and to leave Joffrey alone and marry an Umber or whomever Mother wanted. But I wouldn’t have listened, I wanted to be a Queen like the songs.”

“I wanted to stay, if I could go back I would just give myself the right words to make Father stay.” 

“Father was leaving with or without us, Robert told him to jump and his honour made him ask how high. Not even Mother could stop him.”

“Do you think Mother knew?”

Sansa raised an eyebrow, “That Kings Landing meant our families ruin, or that Jon isn’t a Bastard?”

“Both?” Arya one word answer held so much hope and suddenly Sansa was reminded how young her little sister truly was. 

“Yes and no. I think she knew that no good would come from the Starks leaving Winterfell, after all the last Stark Lady to leave the north was Lyanna and we know that ended. But in regards to Jon, I don’t think she knew, I think if she knew she would have treated him better. We all would have treated him better.”

“Well you were horrible to him.”

Sansa nodded in agreement, “I was horrid to everyone, I am still surprised anyone talks to me now.”

“You are an acquired taste.”

A giggle erupted from Sansa as she snuggled further into the furs, she just wanted to stay there forever wrapped in the soft embrace of fur, with the fire going and a playful banter with her sister. But outside she was all to aware of the Dragon Queen, her new cousin and ex husband all probably pacing the halls waiting for her next move.

“I haven't felt this stressed since Kings Landing and Joffrey wanted my head.”

“How did you survive that place?”

The question was one Sansa had never been asked, at least not by anyone important, a Lord or Lady there trying to get in her good graces would ask but never had family.

“It wasn’t all terrible, the beatings and humiliation stopped with Margaery’s arrival. Then there was the solitude, and the words. I was waiting to hear my fate for over a year with words like ‘Prison’, ‘Frey’ and ‘death’ thrown around like greetings. But in the end they married me to Tyrion. Which was horrible and I was so scared. I cried through the whole ceremony and I thought I would die in the horror of it all. But while being forced to answer to Lannister and the grotesque things Joffrey would alluded to, he was not all bad and I would be able to speak to him and my ladies maid Shae. I think between them, and the thought that Winterfell was still standing was how I survived. I always thought you were running with the wolves up here, bare footed and half wild. That thought always brought a smile.”

“I know I have said it before, but I couldn’t have survived what you did.”

“Yes you would have, but you would have done it your way.”

The siblings fell into a silence unlike any they had experienced in their childhood, for one they were content with each others presence.

They stayed in silence for over an hour, basking in the calm and in Sansa’s case soaking up the wine.

“You should summon Tyrion, explain to him what we want and see what he says.” 

“I don’t know what we want. We want to be free from the Iron Throne, but Winterfell isn’t a castle that can hold the type of banquets and festivals Kings Landing does. We can’t hold state dinners where we wine and dine lords and ladies, we don’t have the gold for it.”

“The Iron Bank?”

“Won’t lend a woman ruling alone money without collateral, which would probably mean they have a say on who I marry.”

“They lent the Lion Bitch money.” Arya reminded Sansa, who nodded in agreement.

“Yes but she showed them strength by paying her debt back, we have no debt to them to pay back in good favour. Starks have never borrowed gold from anyone.”

“But Lannisters have.”

“Yes- Oh.”

And suddenly everything Arya had been saying made sense, the Starks had never borrowed money. But Sansa wasn't just a Stark, she was married to a Lannister. Who they had realised was still fond of her.

“Arya, you want us to not only denounce Daenerys claim to the Iron throne, but you want us to turn her nephew and her Hand away from her. Possibly causing another Civil War?”

Arya smile sent a nervous shiver down her big sisters spine, “Kind of, I don’t think we should throw the Khaleesi aside so quickly, she could marry Jon and they could rule together but Jon would be King to her Queen Consort.”

The wine Sansa had brought to her lips sprayed around as she choked on Arya’s words, “Marry Jon to her?” 

“Yes.” a tiny smirk danced on Arya's face as she baited her sister, “Who else would he marry? The Greyjoy girl?”

Sansa sat in silence, me, she thought as her mind betrayed her with what she wanted but couldn’t voice to her sister, I want him to marry me.

“After all you are already married, twice.” 

It took all of Sansa's ladylike restraint to not to toss her goblet straight at her sisters smug face.

“I don’t know what your talking about.”

Arys acoffed, “Please, you bent the knee at the perfect angle so he could see your queenly assets.” 

“I did not!” 

Arya made a show of removing herself from her chair and kneeling in an over showy manner, flicking her imaginary hair over her shoulder.

“I bend my knee and everything else to you King Snow.” she said in her highest falsetto, laughter breaking every word.

“Don’t make me banish you Lady Stark.”

The siblings laughed as Arya rose and laid on the bed, wrapping a spare fur around her shoulders.

“In all serious though, I would be okay - about you and Jon - if that's what you would like.”

Sansa nodded, her mind finally going to a place she never dared to think of going, thinking of a future where her and Jon could have something. A sigh she didn’t know she was holding escaped her lips at the very thought. 

“So tonight, we summon Tyrion and Jon and find out how to change their loyalty to our side?”

Sansa nodded, “Hopefully Tyrion remembers the girl I was in King's Landing and offers to help. He must see that another Mad-Queen is not what our world needs.”

“Hopefully.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, thank you for reading. Please let me know what you think and if you like this. I love the idea of Sansa and Arya having sisterly conversations- if you think its a little OOC then sorry....  
> Anyway I hope you all had a great easter and maybe chapter three won't take too long.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy a filler chapter that I had so much fun writing with little tidbits to come.

Chapter Three

 

When Sansa entered the great hall she felt all eyes on her, her normal attire of grey woollen dress and furs had been replaced with a iced blue high necked gown, it was form fitting and as the young Queen had dressed she could almost hear her old friend Margaery Tyrell's approval. She would have purred over the delicate snow embroidery that hung off the deep sleeves, and she could have demanded her own dresses to all have the high collar that rose above Sansa’s neck. 

She would have also understood the reasoning behind the not so weather appropriate dress, to show the Dragon Princess that Sansa Stark was not a simple northerner who had never gone beyond the Twins, but a woman reborn in Kings Landing under the iron fist of the Lannisters. Her hair was mimicked a style she had once seen Cersei wear whenever one of Roberts whores was in attendance, with braids and plaits wrapped into a crown-like bun, she looked more powerful and ready then she felt. As she took each step, nodding at lords and ladies she felt smaller and smaller, until she reached the head table. Arya was waiting for her, Bran opting to dine in his rooms like most nights. When she took her seat she realised with a small amount of shock, no member of Daenerys party were in attendance. The Head Table was empty bar her sister, who was already eyeing off the food, and Brienne of Tarth who before this evening had made herself scarce stating ‘That woman is more unnerving than any army’, she had spent her day instead keeping eye on the Dragons from the North Wing tower. Ghost was unsurprisingly asleep under Sansa’s chair, he had opened one eye at her as she entered the room but after a small sigh had gone back to sleep.

 

The cooks in the Winterfell had done a marvellous job at preparing a decent meal on the tight restrictions Sansa had placed on the whole Castle, a bowl of grain per person per day and a slice of salted meats each evening. It wasn’t much but she was looking at a long winter with a war. Rationing was all she could do to keep her people alive.

The cooks had taken the simple grains and meats and with a small amount of seasoning they had squirreled away had made sweet meat buns.

 

Sansa had already thanked the chefs personally just moments before, nodded to her court to sit at the tables and start as she took her seat. The noticeable absence of Daenerys, Jon and Tyrion settles around the room like a damp blanket. With Arya on her right and Brienne on her left Sansa sat back in her chair.

“Where are they?” she hissed.

Brienne shrugged, “Her dragons are still outside, and all reports are that they were getting dressed for this evening. Daenerys even requested a maid to assist with her bath.”

“Did she get one?”

“Amarylis, she knew what to do and say.”Arya replied as she dug into her meal.

“One of your spiders?”

“I am thinking of calling them my kittens, spiders are a bit- Southern.” She said through chews. Arya had spent her free time wisely, collecting staff and commoners to spy around the castle and the north so that the Starks would always be prepared.

“And?”

“The queen got washed in lavender water, dressed in her furs and then demanded Dornish wine over the northern wine.”

“Did your kitten get her the wine?”

“Of course not. She was told apologetic that we only had Northern wine since we were at war and lost our trade routes.”

Sansa took a large drink of her Dornish wine and smiled at her sister and Brienne. 

“So she thinks our trade routes are all cut off?”

“Yes, and Amarylis also let slip that behind closed doors you are always in a panicked state.”

Sansa raised her eyebrow, the unspoken question of how hung in the air.

“She recommended lavender to calm her nerves before the dinner, said you used it religiously.”

“I think I’m going to like your kittens.”

The three fell into silence as they slowly dined on the meal, all with one eye on the door. Half way through as Sansa was being poured her third glass of wine a servant scurried into her vision. She was small, her grey woollen dress well worn and stitched up. She smiled softly at the Queen and her eyes lit up as they settled on Arya. 

The youngest lady of Winterfell gestured for her to approach the table, leaning back in her chair she looked pleased as the serving girl bowed low, kneeling on the steps.

“Your majesties, Lady Daenerys would like to offer her apologies as she is running late and was hoping you would delay the start of dinner by half a turn or so until she is ready.”

Arya scoffed at the serving girl.

“And what was your response?”

“I told her I would tell Queen Sansa, but she is quick to anger and would not be pleased.”

Brienne and Sansa shared a look, “And then?”

“I waited till I knew you would’ve started the feast and told you, she should be arriving within a moment or two.” The serving girl rose from her kneeling position and rose to share a smile Sansa was very familiar with. It rivaled her sisters own smirk.

“Thank you Amarylis, I will see you later this evening to discuss our next step.” Arya dismissed her kitten but the two shared another look before Amarylis bobbed her curtsy and took a seat on the furthest table away with the other maids.

“I like her.” Sansa whispered, with a knowing grin to her sister.

“She is a good spy.”

“Oh yes - just a good spy.”

Arya avoided her sisters glance and placed another portion of meat on her tongue, groaning at the seasonings she had forgotten had existed once winter had started.

The three ate their meal in relative silence, all with one eye on the great halls door.

All around them conversation was silted as if everyone was just waiting for the great entrance of Daenerys.

 

They finished their meal in silence, Arya taking away Sansas goblet just before her last bite. The sisters share a look before Arya drank the last of the wine, scrunching her nose at the taste.

“We need to get you some cordial before your faces matches your hair.”

Sansa only response was an unblinking stare before a shrug and smile.

She rose from her chair, almost giving up on the dragon queen, and her plans to get Jon and Tyrion on her side. Just as she rose with Ghost by her side the hall doors opened to reveal the three long awaited guests. 

Jon and Tyrion wore their normal black attire, with Jon affixing the fur cloak she once made him over his shoulder. His long unruly curls where tied back and Sansa could almost tell from just his eyes the late arrival was not his plan. 

Tyrion looked at her and nodded his head, his fist raised to his heart. She smiled back at the familiar gesture and mirrored it. 

Daenerys wore her white furs like Aryas Kitten had said and her hair hung loss around her face. She did not smile as all eyes fell on her.

She did not however falter as she walked towards Sansa and the high table. No expression played on her beautiful features though she tilted her head at the sight of the empty plates.

“My apologies Lady Stark for my tardiness. I had hoped your maid would have sent word.”

Sansa smiled at the phrasing of her greeting.

“She did, Princess, however the food was ready and my court hungry. We are not the kind of people to wait on just one. As I am sure Prince Jon would have told you.” Jon’s title felt full in her throat and it took a lot to not choke on it.

The Princess looked behind her at her nephew, who was looking anywhere but at the blonde, and Sansa knew she was right. Jon would have hated the plan to be tardy and to be the centre of attention, neither were something he enjoyed.

“Lord Snow did inform me but alas it was unforeseeable as I am still attempting to get use to the fashions on this harsh environment.”

Arya sniggered into her empty wine goblet, using it as prop to stop any remarks from sliding from her sharp tongue.

“Well you are here now and we saved your share of the meal, i do hope we don’t offend you if I allow the court to leave. It would be silly and practical for them to waste a mild evening just so they can watch a noble lady eat.”

The two queens stared each other down, Sansa knew how improper and rude it was to send a court away before the guest of honour had even sat down but Daenerys also knew she was playing with fire if she didn’t allow this faux pas to slide. 

“Of course, after all it is only yourself and your sister I came here to see.”

Sansa sat back down and with a wave of her hand, all the lords, ladies and staff exited the room. Bowing their farewell to the high table, the looks of wary and nerves that got cast Sansa’s way almost warmed her heart but the cold look Jon cast her froze it back. 

SHe had thought after the conversation in her solar he would have run to her side, but as he stopped just behind Daenerys she realised he was going to be harder to bring over to her side. 

Three serving maids brought chairs to the other side of the table, making Sansa look straight at the rival queen, Jon looking at the amused Arya and Brienne of Tarth looking down at Tyrion. They helped themselves to the food after Sansa waved away the maids, letting them have an early night.  
“So Jon, darling cousin, did you miss me?” Arya purred, rolling Jon’s familial term on her tongue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhhh what's going to go down? Who knows! Not me :D


End file.
